Steady
by serenelystrange
Summary: Random fluff-ness ahead! Parker has to pose as a poet. And yeah, maybe she does have some feelings. Not exactly shipper-y, per se, but there is a leaning. No more than the show, though! Hope you like. :D


A/N - Ok, so I know I have maybe like 3 subscribers. Which is awesome, love you guys, And thus.. I know that I have a WIP that hasn't been updated in a while. Truthfully, I'm kind of stuck on it and RL is a bitch, so it might be a while. Sorry!

But anyway, this little randomness has been idling in my head for a few days and I decided to just go and write it. Beware, crappy (or at least very cheesy) poetry lies ahead. But.. it's not supposed to be good, so don't feel bad about not liking it, lol. It's all part of the story.

And thus ends a very long author's note that nobody cares about, Hope you like the story!

.

.

"Here, put this on, it's a little cliché, but we're short on time and options."

Parker cringed as Sophie shoved the black beret over her head. It itched and smelled vaguely like wet dog.

"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie!" Parker's voice rose in panic, "I can't go out there alone and pretend to be some poet! Why can't you do it?"

Sophie sighed, "Parker, Mrs. Brownlow already knows my face. And one of use needs to be on that stage to see who sits next to her. You know the whole deal is happening here, today. Eliot's on standby in case things get rough and Hardison needs to finish setting up his cameras. And she knows Nate's face as well. It has to be you."

Parker nodded solemnly, "But why can't it be you, again?" she tried weakly.

"Oh, just go!" Sophie rolled her eyes before shoving Parker through the curtain, onto the tiny stage.

.

.

"It's too bright!" Parker whispered harshly into the comms as the spotlight was directed on her, glaring in her eyes and heating her skin.

She fiddled absently with the long braid over her shoulder, staring nervously at the crowd, trying to ignore Sophie's buzzing in her ear.

After a moment Parker realized her 'name' had been called and the mic had been adjusted for her height. They were waiting for her to begin. Sighing softly, she stepped up to the microphone… and froze.

"I can't do this!" She turned her head to panic into the comms. "I don't know what to say!"

"It'll be fine, Parker. Just breathe," Hardison's voice came across, pleasantly drowning out Sophie's growing exasperation.

She gave the crowd a quick glance before gulping in a huge amount of air. "Breathe, ok, yeah, I can do that."

Hardison's chuckle filled her ear, "You'll be fine, I'm almost there, I'll be your audience, just focus on me."

"OK," Parker sighed, noting the crowd was getting restless, "Just hurry! They're staring."

.

.

Parker leaned forward and opened her mouth to speak, only to find her voice was gone.

"I don't know what to say!" she squeaked again, away from the mic.

The crowd's murmuring was growing louder as they waited. Mrs. Brownlow was staring at her curiously, but the seat beside her was empty still.

"Just speak from your heart!" Sophie's voice finally cut through Parker's mental white noise.

.

.

"My heart?!" Parker said aloud, jumping back a little as she heard her amplified voice.

The audience turned and fell silent, apparently unaware of the question in her words.

"Your heart, Parker," Hardison's voice soothed over her nerves, "Just go with it," he instructed. She could hear the panting in his voice, he was running. To her, for her.

"My heart," she repeated, slightly stronger this time. She closed her eyes tight as she tried to think of what to say next."

She swayed slightly at the pressure.

"Steady," Hardison warned, "Just breathe. And open your eyes."

"Steady," Parker repeated out loud as she opened her eyes.

The audience looked intrigued. She looked out into the audience and there Hardison sat, looking right up at her.

"Steady," he said again, grinning at her.

"Steady," she repeated again, louder.

"You got this," Hardison smiled encouragingly again, even giving her a geeky thumbs up she had to fight not to laugh at.

Parker nodded, whispering to herself, "I got this. OK."

"Go on then, Parker!" Sophie urged in her ear.

.

.

"_My heart,"_ Parker started again, focusing on Hardison's colorful scarf instead of the people in the room.

_It beats,_

_Only steady._

_Steady, Steady."_

She tapped a hand against her chest with each 'steady,' surprised at how easy the words began to flow.

"_Never too fast or too slow,_

_Only steady, steady._

_It doesn't race _

_or cry_

_or sing out in joy_

_Only beats,_

_Steady, steady. "_

.

"Where is this coming from?" Sophie hissed into the comms, surprised at Parker's words.

"Shhh," Hardison admonished from his seat, giving Parker an encouraging smile to continue.

.

.

"_I feel._

_More than…_

_More than I did. More than I want._

_More than you know._

_But still, it only beats,_

_Steady, steady. _

.

_I'm cold_

_To the touch, deep inside_

_I know. _

_But you're the sun, sometimes._

_._

_But still, it only beats,_

_Steady, steady. _

.

.

Parker heard Hardison's sharp intake of breath even if she couldn't see it in his face. She bit her lip worriedly and looked to him again, but he only smiled at her, bright and beautiful.

.

.

"_My heart,_

_Only steady._

_Steady, steady."_

She placed her hand flat across her heart, before drumming her fingers rapidly against it.

"_Steady, steady._

_Until you smile."_

.

.

Parker pushed back from the microphone as abruptly as she had been shoved to it and ran through the curtain, even as the audience cheered.

Sophie stopped her, "You did really well!"

Parker cringed, "I didn't even see who was with Mrs. Brownlow."

Hardison joined them a second later, "It's cool. I saw who sat with her. Got it on video and everything. The rest is icing, baby."

Sophie rolled her eyes but Parker laughed. He did have a way of making her smile, even when she didn't want to.

Sophie muttered something about Nate before wandering off, leaving Parker and Hardison in the cramped but deserted backstage.

.

.

"Didn't know you were a poet," Hardison commented casually as they made their way out.

Parker frowned, "I'm not. Definitely not. God, no."

"It was nice," he replied, holding the door for her as they walked outside.

"It doesn't… I don't… it's just… you know?" Parker sighed at her loss of words.

Hardison laughed, "I know, I know. Fiddly. But still, it was a nice poem."

"Yeah?" Parker asked.

Hardison grinned, another burst of sunshine, "Definitely."

Parker squeezed her hand over his for just an instant before grinning back.

She cast a dubious look to the sky. The grey clouds looked like they were plotting to take over the blue space. But then she remembered it would be ok. She had her sun.

.

.

THE END

A/N – why yes that was random.


End file.
